


Good Times for a Change

by Maestr0012



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ??????????? - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, probably quite a bit of hand holding, um, wow ive never written a fic before this is exciting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:50:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maestr0012/pseuds/Maestr0012
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After moving to Estlin, Oregon for a new start, Castiel Novak finds himself falling for Dean Winchester- a cashier at a local coffee shop. Fluff, angst, and hilarity ensue. (Presumably)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cocoa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is my first time ever publishing a fic- so sorry if there are any mischaracterizations or anything- I'm super nervous/excited!  
> (Also the fictional town of Estlin is somewhere near Hood River, Oregon, I don't live in oregon so sorry if anything is messed up. I tried to do research one the weather conditions and stuff so yeah. Basically Estlin is just a little town somewhere in buttfuck nowhere oregon where it snows sometimes. Alright.)
> 
> I do plan on making future chapters longer, so stay tuned!

Castiel stamped his boots in the several inches of snow that had accumulated overnight. He raised his eyes to the grey sky, breathing in the cold, dry air and feeling utterly alive. He was new in town, not quite sure what he wanted to do that day but knowing he wanted to do something. He stuffed his mitten-clad hands into his coat pockets, and began to walk.  
After half an hour of shuffling through the snow, he decided he was far too cold and wet to continue. He spied a small local coffee shop on the corner, and headed in. He was greeted by a small bell and a whoosh of warm air, the sounds of quiet bustling and clinking of ceramic cups meeting his ears as he stomped the melting snow off his boots. He walked up to the counter, sniffling his bright pink nose and smiling nervously at the extremely cute cashier. 

“What can I get you today, sir?” The sandy-haired cashier asked Cas, smiling.

“A- um. Hot chocolate, please?” Cas asked, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. 

“Any whipped cream on that?” The cashier asked. “You look like someone who enjoys sweet things,” he smiled.

“Please,” Cas said, blushing as he fumbled with his wallet in his mittened hands.

“That’ll be $2.50, I’ll have it right out to you. Can I get your name?” 

Cas blushed an even darker scarlet. “Wh-what?”

“For the cup. So you know which is yours,” The cashier chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. I’m Castiel.” He finally managed to extract 3 dollar bills from his wallet, and dropping the 50 cent change in the tip jar so he wouldn’t have to deal with his wallet again.

“Casteel?” The cashier asked, glancing up at Cas, sharpie poised just above the cup.

“Castiel,” He corrected, spelling it for the charming cashier.

“Alright, Castiel. That’ll be out in just a sec,” He winked, and Cas blushed and looked at the floor, stepping out of the way for the next customer.

When the cashier called Cas’s name, he stumbled back to the counter to grab his drink, tripping slightly on his too-long overcoat. He managed to make it to an empty table okay, sitting down and gazing out the window. Cas brought the steaming hot chocolate to his chapped lips, taking first a small sip then downing a third of it in a hasty attempt to warm up. He choked and sputtered as part of the hot beverage went down the wrong pipe.

“You okay, man?” The cashier said as he slid into the booth across from Cas, holding a coffee and a blueberry muffin.

Cas coughed, and turned an impressive shade of red before croaking out “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look pretty red to me,” The man said, leaning forward and feigning a concerned expression.

Cas blushed harder. “I’m okay,” he took another sip of hot chocolate, silently praying that he didn’t screw it up.

“I hope you don’t mind if I join you for my break, there was nowhere else to sit.”

Cas looked around the nearly empty coffee shop, then eyed the man sitting across from him, face now covered in crumbs and mouth stuffed with muffin. He smiled and looked at his hands.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” the man swallowed and held out his hand. Cas hastily shook it and said, “I’m Casti-”

“Castiel, yeah,” Dean nodded and gestured at the cup. Cas blushed. “Yeah.”

Cas ran his now mittenless fingers through his soft, damp hair, mussing it up a bit more than before. Dean smiled as he saw Cas’s nervous gestures. 

“So are you new in town? I haven’t seen you around here before,” Dean inquired, sipping his coffee and taking another bite of muffin.

“Yes, I moved here recently. From Portland,” Cas said nervously.

“Portland is nice,” Dean said, “I like it much better than Estlin, it’s bigger. More exciting.”

“I prefer Estlin, it’s very small. It’s comforting. Cold, though.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled, finishing his muffin and getting up. “I get off work in a couple hours, do you maybe wanna go do something? I can show you around if you want.”

“Oh- I. Sure. That would be nice,” Cas blushed. Did he just get asked out??

“Sweet, I’ll meet you at the Grove around 3?”

“I’m not quite sure where that is… Sorry,” Cas said, looking as his hands.

“Alright, I’ll just pick you up. Where do you live?” Dean asked smoothly.

“Oh. On the corner of Haven and Main, it’s a little blue house.”

“Cool, dude. I’ll see you then. Three okay?”

“Three is perfect.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I do hope you don't mind chapters being posted within 24 hours of each other, the other updates probably won't be up so soon. I still am not quite sure where I'm going with this, but I can almost guarantee angst leading to fluff in the next chapter. I'm gonna start working on that tonight so expect another update before the week is done :)  
> Again, I do apologize for any ooc behavior, messed up tags, or anything of the sort.  
> Also, sorry for the short chapter. I hope to build up to way longer chapters in the future, that's just how these ones worked out.  
> I would appreciate comments suggesting things I can do/fix/anything. Thank you!

Cas paced around his small house for nearly an hour waiting for Dean, checking his watch every so often and checking himself in the mirror every few minutes. He tried running a comb through his hair. It did nothing. He sighed.

When the doorbell finally rang, Cas realized he wasn't ready. Should he have changed clothes? He already brushed his teeth and combed his hair in an inane attempt at taming it. He opened the door to a smiling Dean waiting on the porch, hair and eyelashes dusted with snowflakes, green eyes glinting with- was that...eagerness?

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, and Cas realized he'd been staring. He blushed lightly.

"Hello, Dean," He paused a moment, then stepped gingerly out the door. His breath puffed in front of his face. Cas briefly regretted not wearing a scarf.

Dean was already halfway to his car, a beautiful black Impala in pristine condition. Cas shuffled his way over to the car and got in, welcoming the warm air blowing violently from the vents. When they're both situated, Dean pressed a button and classic rock blared out the speakers. Cas smiled.

The car sputtered to a stop only 10 minutes later, in front of a large expanse of snow covered ground spattered with sparse naked trees, ending about 100 yards away in thick forest. "Alright Cas, time to get out. We're walking."

"Walking? Dean, there's 8 inches of snow out there. There's no way we can..." Cas started, but decided it wasn’t not worth arguing about. He exited the car and stepped next to Dean. 

"You ready?" Dean asked, looking at Cas.

"I suppose."

~ 

After twenty minutes of crunching through the snow, crossing the large field and slipping through the slightly less snowy woods, Dean turned off the small trail and turned back, looking at Cas expectantly. "Come on."

Cas blinked a few times and resumed following Dean, extremely nervous. Why did he think it would be a good idea to walk out in the woods with a complete stranger? This could end so badly, in so many different ways. Cas sighed, resigning to his fate knowing he'd be lost trying to get out of the woods without Dean. 

They walked a few more minutes until Dean finally stopped in front of a tiny cottage emitting a warm yellow glow. Cas swallowed nervously. Why didn't he think this through? He's gonna get murdered!

Dean, as if reading Cas's mind, said, "Don't worry man, I won't bite. Unless you're into that kind of thing, eh?" Dean winked, Cas blushed and stepped toward the house. "This is my place," Dean was saying. "My dad bought it for me and my brother a long time ago, but now it's just me. I was going to take you around town, but then I remembered that Estlin is a tiny ass town and you'd probably seen all there is to see, so I thought..." Dean realized he was rambling. Cas didn’t look like he was listening anyway. They made their way inside and Dean stripped off his damp leather jacket. "Can I get you anything? Beer, tea, hot chocolate, something?" Dean asked, reaching into the fridge for a beer. 

"Tea, please," Cas standing anxiously in the doorway, wringing his chapped hands.

“Come in, sit down,” Dean gestured at the table and chairs as he put water into the kettle.  
Cas sat down, gazing around the house, noticing strange little odds and ends and trinkets on shelves. 

The kettle hissed and Dean held up two flavours of tea with a questioning look on his face. “Chamomile, please.”

Dean removed a mug out of a cupboard and poured the hot water in it, making the tea. “Sugar?”  
Cas was surprised a moment before he realised Dean was talking about the tea. “Plain is fine, thank you.”

Dean sat in the chair across from Cas and sipped his beer. “So, why did a guy like you decide to move to a boring-ass town like Estlin?”

Cas sighed. This question was inevitable. “Portland wasn’t quite my scene. I came here for a new start, a change of pace.” Not to mention he blew most of his savings on the only house in Willamette valley he could afford. 

“But really, Estlin?” Dean looked truly fascinated as to why anyone would actually want to live in a small town like this.

“Yes, I find it comforting here. It reminds me of home,” Cas sipped his tea and chanced a look at Dean. Dean was looking at the beer bottle in his hands and looking perplexed. “But enough about me. Have you lived here your whole life?” 

Dean looked up and smiled dryly. “Nah, I lived here a while growing up but my dad, brother, and I moved around a lot when we were teenagers. When our dad died, Sammy went off to college and I moved back here.”  
Cas vaguely wondered why Dean moved back if he seemed to hate it so much, but he didn’t want to pry. There were a few moments of silence as Dean and Cas sipped at their drinks.

“You know, Dean, I really haven’t seen very much of the town. I came in last week and I only went outside for the first time yesterday,” Cas was blushing. Why was he telling this guy he barely knew that he was basically a hermit?

“Cas, there are like 4 streets. Come on, let’s go take a look. I know of a few cool places.”

Cas was not looking forward to the hike back to the car.

~

Back in the Impala, driving slowly through town, Dean pointed out a few of the more interesting places in Estlin.

"That's Goode's Drugs. Also known as Good Drugs because he sells less than legal things on the side, if you know what I mean,” Dean said as they passed a pharmacy.

They were driving past one of the more shabby buildings in town, a squat one-story with no windows that looked like it was about to collapse. “Best beer in town,” Dean said matter of factly. Cas snorted. “No, really. I’ll take you there sometime, it’s awesome.” 

“Sure,” Cas said, though inside he was reeling at the prospect of seeing Dean again.

Rain had begun to fall lightly as the sun set, and Dean realised it was about time they get home. “It’s getting a little late, should I take you back?” Dean asked regretfully, glancing at Cas. 

“I suppose,” Cas said, not looking forward to another late night alone. They pulled up outside Cas’s house, both looking at it rather begrudgingly.

“So.. I’ll uh.. See you again?” Dean asked.

“I’d like that.” Cas said, getting out of the car into the cold night air, turning back to shut the door and smile at Dean one more time. Dean waved and watched Cas unlatch the door and go inside before driving away.

When Cas got inside he stripped off his soggy clothes, putting on an old t-shirt and sweats. Cas glared at his empty bed resentfully, his thoughts drifting to sandy hair and green eyes, a dangerous combination that told Cas he'd be restless until he saw Dean again. He got in bed expecting yet another sleepless night, but fell asleep almost instantly with warm thoughts of chamomile tea and wooden cottages.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas's nightmare leaves him shaking and looking for something to numb the pain- but who should he see at the bar but a drunken Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is a little more graphic than I expected. 
> 
> I hope this suits your fancies, it's not perfect (obviously) but I'm still proud of myself for getting this far.  
> Again, I do appreciate kudos and comments, constructive criticism will go a long way. :) 
> 
> Oh, and **Trigger warning for Rape**

Neon lights blink and flash in the distance, but here there is nothing but dingy flickering street lamps, a sidewalk sticky with what it’s seen of the grime of inner city, and the sounds of crashing, sirens, the buzzing of flies, and howls of alley cats. A car is driving slowly up the street, bumping over trash and cracks in the pavement, stopping in front of a scantily clad young man, a scratchy, slurred voice asking “You workin’?”

The young man steps into the light and nods, his bloodshot blue eyes glinting under the dim light. After a few more words exchanged between the two, the blue eyed man- a boy, really- enters the car and they make their way to a cheap motel. Inside the thin walls, there are bumps and bruises and blurs of motion, shouts of “No!” and “Stop!” vicious grunts and grabs and scratches and sighs. The grisly old man leaves, slamming the door with blood and bruises on his hands, a handful of money taken from the boy. Inside still, the boy is crumpled and bleeding, breathing hard, permanently changed and left with nothing.

~

Cas bolted up in bed, eyes wide and heart pounding frantically. He never really got used to the nightmares. He glanced at his clock- 5:04. Wow, first full nights sleep he’s had in a while. Cas peeled the damp sheets away from his achy form, stretched his legs out and got out of bed. He stepped into a cold shower, rubbing his eyes and trying to forget the nightmare that left him feeling empty and broken, a reminder of the past he’d tried so hard to run away from.

Cas paced the kitchen, hands shaking. He needed to get out of the house.  
He threw on his overcoat and climbed into his ancient tan Rabbit, ready to drive for hours, anything to get the nightmare off his mind. He found himself driving past the dive of a bar Dean had suggested, slowing down infinitesimally before changing his mind. Drink would not help him now. Cas kept driving, stopping to let an old man cross the street. He blinked- the old man looked like… Cas got a chill down his spine and a pain stabbed through his head. He immediately turned the car around, speeding back to the bar. He haphazardly parked between the few cars that were there- more than he thought would be at 9 am. He stumbled out of the car, still shaking. He saw the nightmare every time he blinked. His breath puffed in front of him as he made his way into the bar.

Cas was greeted by a rush of warm air and quiet blues, soft bustle, clinking glasses and the warm smell of alcohol wafting through the air. He walked up to the bar, debating for a moment on whether he wanted shots, but deciding against it. He had to drive home, after all. A scrawny man with a mullet behind the bar slid over to Cas with a “What can I get ya?”

“Just a beer, please. Anything.”

“Alright,” the man said, putting a glass under the tap and filling it to the brim with the foamy golden liquid.  
As he took a long swig of the beer, he realized Dean was totally right. This beer was fantastic. Cas looked around the bar, taking it all in, when who should he see but a very drunk Dean with his face in his hands at the corner of the bar. Cas rose, beer in hand, and sat next to Dean. He quietly cleared his throat, “Hello, Dean.” Dean bolted upright, head snapping towards Cas, eyes bloodshot and wild. His face softened immediately after seeing it was only Cas.

“Hey, man, whassup?” Dean slurred.

“Dean, you’re drunk. What happened?” Cas looked into Dean’s eyes, searching for an answer.

Dean shrugged and started peeling the damp wrapper from one of the several empty bottles in front of him

“Dean. Tell me what happened,” Cas said firmly, making Dean look up at him.

Dean was silent for a moment before saying reluctantly, “My brother passed the bar exam. He's marrying his girlfriend. Which is great, and all, but what am I doing?" Dean looked at his hands, damp with condensation from the bottle he was messing with.

“Ah,” Cas said. “This is an, um. Interesting way of celebrating.”

Dean shrugged again, still not looking at Cas. He looked at the smooth, worn wood of the bar, then ran a hand wearily across his face. “Maybe I should just leave.” Dean got up rather unsteadily and started to shuffle toward the door.

Cas rose and immediately got in front of Dean, putting his hands on Dean's shoulders to hold him steady. “You’re driving home?” Cas looked at Dean’s face intently, noticing a faint spattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones- but he quickly dismissed the thought. “You’re in no place to drive, Dean.”

Dean flushed. “I’m fine, man. Let me go,” Dean pushed against Cas in a weak attempt at getting past him.

“Dean, let me drive you home,” Cas said quietly but firmly, and steered Dean towards the door, a hand still on his shoulder to keep him upright. Cas left a handful of cash on the bar, knowing it was more than enough to cover his drink. They managed to get to Cas’s car okay, and Cas had to let Dean stand on his own a moment to unlock the doors. Dean looked up at the car, then at Cas.

“This yours?” Dean asked, gesturing vaguely to the drab tan car.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said, opening Dean’s door for him.

“‘81 Rabibt? It’s awful,” Dean fell unceremoniously into the car.  
Cas shut Dean’s door and got into the driver's seat, starting the car and letting it warm up a bit before starting on the road. “How do you expect me to-” Cas started to say, but a quick look at Dean showed he was out like a light. Cas was going to have an adventure on the hike to Dean’s cottage.

Cas parked in the small lot by the park that led to the woods to Dean’s house, staring at Dean’s sleeping form. How the hell would he get him all the way there? Cas couldn’t take him to his own house, it was nearly empty. Plus he slept on a twin, and that would leave Cas sleeping where? He sighed and got out of the car. Cas managed to get Dean in his arms bridal-style after quite a bit of acrobatics on his part. He started on the journey, thankful for the previous night’s rain washing away most of the snow.

Cas was huffing and puffing before he was halfway there. He set Dean down and gave himself a moment to breathe, before remembering the ground was soggy and cold. Oops. Cas dragged Dean over his shoulder like a sack. Man, he was heavy. He began walking again, face red from exertion and cold.

After over half an hour of puffing and pulling and yanking, he finally made it to Dean’s house, surprised and frankly impressed that he didn’t get hopelessly lost in the woods. Luckily, when he got there the door wasn't locked. Cas dragged Dean inside and found the bedroom without much trouble. He lifted Dean into the bed, removed his shoes and socks, and placed a glass of water on the table next to him, knowing that Dean would appreciate it when he awoke. Cas had abandoned his overcoat in the car, and was now wishing he had it. He was cold and soaked through and in nothing but a sweat-stained dress shirt and slacks.

He got up to make the hike back to his car, but when he reached the door he heard a quiet and slurred voice say, “Don’t go, please, Cas.”

Cas turned towards Dean, and took a step toward him. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Shitty,” After a moment, Dean added quietly, “Cold.”

“Do you need another blanket? I saw one on the couch coming in,” Cas suggested.

In the dim light, Cas saw Dean shake his head.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” Cas asked, running a hand through his soft, damp hair. He expected an answer like tea or hot soup, but what Dean said was, “You.”

Cas blushed profusely, flustered, “You- what? Me?”

“You would make me feel better.”

Cas stepped over to the bed and kneeled down eye to eye with Dean. “What can I do?” He asked, though he already had a feeling what Dean would say.

“Get in here.”

Cas stood upright, flustered and blushing, not quite sure what to do for a moment, before taking off his shoes and socks and heading to the other side of the bed. He was about to climb in when Dean said, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, I saw how soggy your pants are. You’re not getting in here and soaking my bed and making it even colder.”

“Then what am I supposed to do, Dean?”

“Sweats.. Top drawer….” Dean slurred, waving his hand vaguely to a dresser at the foot of the bed.

Cas reluctantly peeled off his ice-cold slacks, and pulled on a pair of Dean’s sweats. They were too long, but unbelievably comfortable. He shuffled over to the bed and climbed in. Dean’s body was radiating heat- how could he possibly be cold?

Cas settled in a respectful distance from the now-sleeping Dean, but before long Dean was huddled up next to Cas, no doubt trying to suck heat away from him. Inside the house was barely warmer than outside- how did Dean live like this? Cas turned and curled around Dean protectively, drowsy already, memories of his earlier nightmare fading quickly. Suddenly Cas could barely keep his eyes open. He slid into a dreamless sleep, Dean snoring softly beneath him.


	4. breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dean's hungover
> 
> cas makes breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO FUCKING SORRY HOLY BALLS  
> I KEPT TRYING TO WRITE THEN SCHOOL STARTED AND I WAS BUSY SO I DECIDED TO JUST POST WHAT I HAVE AND HOLY SHIT AM I SORRY.   
> I JUST  
> I'm sorry this took so long to post. I truly am. I hope it's satisfactory  
> (also sorry its short and again SORRY I TOOK SO LONG JESUS CHRIST)

Cas woke up, immediately noticing how warm he was, and the weight spread across his entire body. He tried to move his arms, but they were pressed against his sides by- was that Dean’s leg? He surveyed the situation, Dean had wrapped his every limb around Cas, effectively pinning him down and making it nearly impossible to move. He sighed, trying to decide if he wanted to deal with the suffocating yet comfortable heat of Dean, or getting up and finding a snack. In the end, hunger won out.   
Cas spent nearly ten minutes gently prying Dean’s limbs off of his own, then changing into his now-dry clothes to find something to cook. Cas groaned when he got to the fridge. Of course it was empty except for beer and a bag of withered baby carrots. He sighed and checked his watch- it was only 2:23. He had enough time to run to the store and back. Time before what, he couldn’t say.  
The hike back to town was immensely easier this time, without having to carry Dean or trudge through snow. It took Cas only 15 minutes to reach town, and just another 10 to get to the store. He decided to only get the essentials--even though he had no fucking clue what the essentials were, but he wasn’t made of money after all. He picked up eggs, milk, pancake mix... He wondered if Dean liked sausage or bacon more. He bought both anyway,just to be safe.   
The same thing ended up happening with apple and orange juice, as well as with the strawberries and raspberries. He ended up shelling out almost 30$ for his groceries. It was when he'd gotten his receipt that he realised he didn’t really care.  
Cas managed to get back to Dean’s house relatively quickly, and began to cook his meal. He wasn’t sure if Dean liked pancakes or waffles so he hunted down a dusty old waffle maker from the back of the pantry and made both. He realised had no clue if Dean liked his eggs scrambled or fried, or his bacon crispy or chewy, so he ended up making an absolute mountain of food for Dean. Oh well, he thought, shrugging. At least there would be leftovers.  
When the food was cooked and the table laid out, Cas wondered how he would go about waking Dean. Cas went to Dean’s room with purpose and confidence, a man on a mission. He faltered slightly when he reached Dean’s sleeping form, his resolve disintegrating when he saw how childlike Dean looked when he was sleeping, the harsh lines of his face now soft and open and he had such a gentle look about him that Cas longed to touch him. Why not? He’s sleeping anyway.. With that thought, Cas reached his hand out and gently touched Dean’s sandy hair, the tips of his fingers trailing down his forehead and his cheekbone, pausing a moment before touching his chapped pink lips with the tip of his index finger. What the hell was he doing? He’d known this guy for like two days, why was he stroking his fucking face? Dean’s eyes fluttered open as Cas pulled his hand away. Eyes the color of spring glanced around the room before settling on Cas’s own.  
“Hey, you. Why’d you leave?” Dean croaked.  
Cas flushed. He didn’t realise Dean knew. “I went to get breakfast.” His voice was shaking. Did Dean know Cas had been gaying all over him a moment before? If Dean knew, he didn’t let it show.  
Dean looked extremely excited about the prospect of breakfast, his eyes brightening as he sat up. Dean winced, presumably because of a killer headache and spinning room, but he seemed to be mostly sober other than that. Strange.   
“I’ll um. Leave you to it then. Hurry to the table though- your food won't be good cold.” Cas looked uncomfortable for a moment, still red, then walked out and shut the door behind him. When Cas reached the kitchen his hands were shaking. He really hoped Dean wasn’t aware of his face-touching adventure. Why did he think that was a good idea?   
He was still stressing when Dean walked in the kitchen a few minutes later. He’d changed into a fresh t-shirt and some sweat pants, stretching his arms above his head with a loud groan, exposing a strip of his tummy for a brief moment. Cas couldn’t help but stare.   
Cas cleared his throat, “I didn’t know what you liked, so I made a little of everything. I hope you don’t mind.” He wrung his hands anxiously.  
Dean smiled weakly, “It’s perfect. I just need some water, though,” Dean said, walking unsteadily toward a cupboard.  
“No no, you sit down,” Cas urged, pushing Dean toward a chair and placing a plate in front of him. “I’ll get you some water. Unless you want juice? I got apple and orange.”  
“Apple, please,” Dean’s voice was dry and tired. Cas retrieved a glass and filled it to the brim with juice, handing it to Dean who was eyeing the food before him with an eager grin. Dean downed half the glass before digging in, piling his plate high with bacon and scrambled eggs, pausing at the plate of waffles.  
"What's the matter?" Cas asked anxiously. "Do you not like waffles?"  
"Where did you get the waffle maker?" Dean asked, his voice hitching slightly.  
"I found it in the back of your pantry, I-I hope you don't mind," Cas stammered, his hands shaking. Had he crossed some line he hadn't known was there?  
Dean shook his head.   
"So then what is it, Dean?" Cas had never felt more useless in his life.  
"That's the, uh-- that's the waffle maker my mom used to use."  
“Um. Sorry. Was I not supposed to use it?” Cas wasn’t sure what to do.  
Dean sighed and grabbed a waffle. Cas gingerly sipped his orange juice, nibbling on a piece of bacon while he watched Dean eat. When Dean crunched into the waffle, his eyes fluttered closed and he savored the bite. “Damn, Cas, where'd you learn to make these?”  
“My sister used to cook them every saturday morning. She taught me a lot,” Cas smiled faintly, remembering Anna’s sweet smile when she cooked breakfast for he and his brothers.  
“They’re just like my mom’s...” Dean stared at his nearly empty plate for a moment, before looking up at Cas. “Thanks, man.”  
Cas didn’t really know what to say after that.


End file.
